


(you shine like the) midnight sun

by allmywill



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: 1990s, 2000s, Begging, Bruises, Canon Related, Comfort/Angst, Coping, Crying, Desk Sex, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluffy Ending, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Kissing, Love Bites, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Marriage Proposal, Mild Blood, Old Friends, Promises, Reunions, Rough Sex, So Married, Song Lyrics, Spanking, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21649486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill
Summary: John leaves the band beforeMedazzalandis finished. Simon and Nick make a promise.
Relationships: Nick Rhodes & John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes
Comments: 51
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve never written anything like this before, but i’m pretty satisfied with it! more to come, this concept was too good to leave at one chapter. let me know what you think ;)

_January 1997_

“He’s done.”

Nick’s heart sinks down through the floor as Simon utters the words after putting the phone down. _Done._ He doesn’t move from where he’s standing in front of his desk. His feet feel like bricks, his brain feels like it’s full of cotton.

John Taylor, co-founder of Duran Duran. John Taylor, talented bassist and songwriter. _Nigel,_ his best friend, his anchor, his light.

Simon puts his head in his hands, sighing deeply. They had both been preparing for this moment, and yet no matter how much they anticipated it, it still hurts. It hurts more now than it did before, when they were slowly losing him. The final tie has broken, the snapping sound heartbreaking, earth-shattering. _Done._

Nick is frozen in place—he’s a statue, erected to commemorate the loss of their bandmate. He feels as heavy and cold as marble. Simon’s words hang in the air, drifting around his still form, taunting him.

When Simon looks up, he meets Nick’s empty gaze. He watches him for a few long seconds before he rounds his desk, taking him into his arms without saying a word.

Nick returns the embrace. He clutches his body for all he’s worth, but he doesn’t cry a single tear. He’s too stunned, so caught up in his never ending train of thought that his eyes remain dry somehow. Simon just holds him, letting him cling for as long as he needs.

He needs to cling, too. The news has him shaken up as well. He can’t believe he’s really gone, even though it was bound to happen eventually.

“Just us now,” Simon breaks the silence between them, sounding as sullen as Nick feels. He lets a hand run over his back, a gentle touch, filled with all the tenderness in the world.

 _Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave,_ Nick thinks, a mantra in his mind. He would utter those words if he could, but his face is pressed against Simon’s chest and his words would come out muffled. He finds he wants to be closer to him, wants to make sure he’ll stay right by his side, where he belongs.

They belong together. Through thick and thin, through the lowest lows and the highest highs, they truly do. Nick could never imagine letting him go, and especially not now, when they need each other the most. He needs Simon more than words could ever say.

Simon starts to sway him from side to side, so slow he hardly notices it at first. He hums a familiar tune, one Nick recognizes as _A Matter of Feeling_. It helps to soothe the aching he feels inside. He recalls the beautiful lyrics, the bittersweetness they suggest. They’re perfect for the moment.

Nick lets his hands travel to his hips, resting them there. He then slips his fingers underneath his shirt, caressing his skin with intent. He doesn’t see Simon smile at the touch.

“We’ll be okay.” Simon’s getting restless; Nick’s silence to blame. “We’ll finish the album, do some videos, then—”

“Stay,” Nick blurts out the first word on the tip of his tongue. He’s not thinking, he’s just doing, letting his emotions take complete control. “Can you promise me? That you’ll stay?”

Simon pulls back to look at Nick’s face. His expression is something he doesn’t see often, sad and a little bit doubtful. He hates to see it. He wants to make it better. He’ll do anything. Nick’s hands are still on his hips, the touch quite intimate, even for them.

“Of course I’ll stay,” Simon tells him, moving his hands so they’re cupping his face. He needs to hold Nick, needs to know he’s not slipping through his fingers like John just did. “I promise.”

Nick wants him to say it again, again and again until it’s all he can hear. He wants more than that, too. There’s a desire growing within him that he cannot ignore. It’s spreading like a relentless wildfire, contagious; sparks are ready to fly. It won’t be long till Simon is engulfed in his flames.

With Simon’s hands still holding his face, he backs him into his own desk until he hits the edge. He makes a small noise, a muffled groan at the back of his throat. Nick presses their bodies flush together and grinds his hips experimentally.

This is what he needs: to solidify their bond, to secure his promise, to get this out of his system, finally.

Simon groans louder at their contact, the friction too good. Nick’s face is so close to his now, he can feel his breath, his deep inhale and shallow exhale. His lips are right there, and though he’s kissed them before, it’s never been in this context. The deep yearning has never been so present until now, until that detrimental phone conversation with John. It started what had been stirring between them for some time now.

“I want you to take me,” Nick whispers, sultry and low as the heat rises between them. “Show me you mean it. Fill me, mark me up.”

Simon feels his cock twitch at Nick’s dirty words. His hands fall to his waist, gripping him as he flips them around, so he is the one backed into the desk instead. He has always found it hard to say no to Nick, and even more so now. He’s wrapped around his little fingers.

“That can be arranged.” Simon looks into his face, watching those wide eyes watch him. So close, so _close..._

Their lips meet in a bruising kiss, hungry and desperate for the next step as soon as they take the first one. Simon works to undo the first few buttons on Nick’s shirt, exposing his chest. Nick does the same to him, then takes his bottom lip in between his teeth before they pull away, gasping for air.

Simon attacks his neck, sucking on a spot just beneath his jawline. He starts trailing down, doing just what Nick asked of him; leaving marks that will look much more prominent later. Nick thrusts into him, impatient, sick and tired of waiting for what he wants.

“Sure about this?” Simon asks between kisses. His skin is already on fire, his usual pale complexion flushed pink.

Nick gasps, Simon’s lips causing him so much pleasure. “Yes, _please._ Just fucking manhandle me, I need this.”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

Simon reaches around and opens the top drawer, pulling out a tube of lubricant, typically used for his lonelier days at home. This is not one of those times.

Nick turns his body around and bends himself over the desk, completely under Simon’s spell. He feels him leaning over him, yanking his both his trousers and underwear down at the same time. Before he can get used to the cool air on his skin, Simon’s already coating his fingers and pressing them into Nick.

He works him open with one hand and grips his hip with the other. He starts rocking back, desperate for more, to get him deeper inside.

“Is this how you make your promises now?” Simon wonders out loud, holding Nick tighter. He leans over him, their still clothed bodies flush, rocking together. “You beg to be fucked?”

Nick moans, falling apart. “Just you,” he replies. “You’re all I want.”

Simon scissors his fingers inside him, causing Nick a great deal of pleasure, based on the sounds that escape from his mouth. “Beg for it then, babe, let me hear you.”

“Fuck me, Charlie, please,” Nick almost screams, his hands splayed across the desk. His hipbones are digging into the wood as his fingers open him up. “Hard, bruise me so I know... you’ll _ah—_ stay.”

That’s all he needs to hear; he’s rock hard already and he needs to be inside Nick, right now. “Such a filthy mouth, darling.”

Nick feels him pull his fingers out. He’s unbuckling his belt, shoving his own trousers down to his ankles with haste. He covers his bare cock in lubricant and starts to push in, inch by inch until he’s filling Nick completely.

Simon bends over him again, this time, both his hands on the desk for stability. He groans, Nick’s tight warmth surrounding him. He feels so good, like no one he’s ever fucked before. He draws back and shoves him forward with his first thrust.

“Bet you’ve been wanting this for a long time,” Nick comments as Simon fucks into him, pushing him further against the desk. “Wanting to put your cock in me, especially when I was younger and prettier.”

Simon’s mouth is hovering by his ear, his breath lingering there. “I would’ve sooner if you hadn’t been married,” he admits with a grunt. “And shut up, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Nick thinks back to their Arcadia days, when they grew closer than they had ever been. Nothing quite like this happened between them then, it was all touching for the sake of touching, both quietly yearning for something more that wasn’t possible with wives waiting back home. A caress here, a hand on his thigh there, and a few drunken kisses he pretended to forget: everything plays back in his mind and it all starts making sense.

The heat growing between them makes him break out in a sweat, skin clammy in the dead of winter; Simon has picked up the pace. Ecstasy is coursing through Nick’s body. The slapping of their skin echoes throughout the room, an obscene kind of sound only heard behind closed doors. Though messy and heartbreaking, Nick finds that he’s glad neither of their marriages worked out.

Nick starts to feel pressure building in his stomach. He doesn’t want this to end, and he wants to feel more. He wants it to hurt more. _“Fucking hell, Charlie,”_ he curses, tilting his head so his lips meet the side of his face.

Simon kisses his cheek, then wraps his hands around Nick’s torso underneath his rumpled button-down, holding him in place as he drives into him. He’s hitting that sweet spot inside him with every rhythmic thrust of his hips. Nick knows he doesn’t have long now.

“Spank me,” Nick practically cries, arching his back as he begs. “As hard as you can. _Please._ ”

 _“Fuck, Nick,”_ he moans in reply. He never thought he’d want it so rough, though he’s not complaining. “Anything for you.”

He draws back his hand and when it makes contact with Nick’s bare ass, he screams, his head down on the smoothness of the desk. He feels his own orgasm approaching, and the sounds he’s making only help to inch him towards it.

“Again,” Nick pleads, though he doesn’t have to. “Gonna come.”

Simon complies as his thrusts get sloppy, his huge hand coming down on the same spot as before. There’s an imprint forming already, his cheek red and hot to the touch. Nick moans and he’s coming, long and hard, all over his clothes and the front of Simon’s desk.

Through the haze of lust and sweat, Simon rails him one last time, his hips digging into the desk. He empties his load into Nick, who’s panting as he milks his cock dry.

He pulls out and flips him around, wanting to look at his face, into his bliss filled eyes. The afterglow looks good on him. Then again, so does anything and everything.

They look at each other for a long moment, chests rising and falling, racing to restore the oxygen to their brains. Nick then leans forward and wraps his arms around him. Simon returns the embrace, clinging to him tightly, as if trying to hold his bones together.

“Can’t say I’ve ever made a promise like that before,” Simon says after a few silent moments. He nestles his face into Nick’s hair, the orange and blonde strands wild from their time together.

Nick sighs, happy in his arms. He’s a mess, covered in their juices, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way. “Then maybe there’s a good chance you’ll keep it?”

Simon would never think of leaving Duran, especially not after this. How could he? He couldn’t do that to Nick. “A promise is a promise. You have my word, babe.”

He lets his hands roam over Nick’s body, smiling. He shivers against him when he runs his fingers over the imprint, the mark he left at his request. He’s not letting him go. He won’t. He made the promise to stay, and it’s a promise he’d go to the end of everything to keep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m emotional and so are these two. enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

_February 1997_

Nick watches Simon, sitting a few feet away from him, scribbling out lines in his notebook noisily. Warren is playing around with chords, him and Simon trying to figure out a song. He just sits there, slouching, zoning out. He doesn’t feel like he’s present; he feels like he’s floating off into outer space, far away.

This marks the first time they’ve been in the studio without John. Nick wishes he was here, so much that he pretends he’s supposed to be here with them, that he’s just running late. He knows he’ll never fool himself that good, yet part of him wishes he could.

Moments pass like molasses dripping off a spoon, so painfully slow. Nick is aching in every way he knows how and even finding new ways. He bites his lip and lets his eyes drift over Simon again, remembering the promise they made in vivid detail a couple weeks prior. They haven’t spoken about it since, and Nick’s starting to wonder if it was nothing but a spur of the moment kind of thing; something that wasn’t meant to happen twice.

Even if it never happened again, Nick reckons he would still think about it constantly. Day and night, all around the clock, it would forever be on his mind. He felt their bond strengthen in that moment, their relationship transforming into something he thinks he recognizes as love.

But how could he not love Simon? He has spent the better part of two decades alongside him, working together and creating everything they have come to know. He feels more for him than he ever felt for the woman he married. How could he deny such a prominent feeling? The question begins to take over his mind and leaves him hollow.

Warren must notice his quiet brooding session. He looks away from his guitar and back at Nick, watching him watch Simon with his sad eyes. Maybe he has put two and two together already, maybe he has no idea what went down between them. Either way, Nick can’t find it in himself to care. It is what it is.

He hears Warren and Simon’s conversation die down, a lull as Simon pens down a lyric. The silence eats away at him, gnawing at his conscience in the worst way; he wants to scream. He wants John back, he wants things to feel at least somewhat normal again. He also wants Simon again, like he had him before. He needs him.

“I think we should rework the tracks we have down,” Nick blurts out. “I’m not fond of them.”

Simon is surprised to hear his voice after his extended silence. “Really?” he asks, turning away from Warren to look at Nick.

“Yeah, I don’t think we should go any further until we do.” Nick knows what he’s doing. He has no choice; John influenced and played on those tracks. He can hardly stand to hear them as is. Too many emotions and too many memories flood his mind.

He and Simon share a look. It tells the singer everything he needs to know without Nick needing to say a word. “Alright,” he agrees, “so _Out of My Mind_ —”

“We’re gonna redo all eight tracks? When they’re basically finished?” Warren chimes in, getting up from his seat and putting his guitar down. “That’s over half the album, Nick.”

“We can do better. I know it’ll be worth it.”

“He’s right, Warren.” Simon is always ready to defend Nick, he’ll do whatever it takes. “Remember what happened the last time we rushed an album?”

Warren recalls _Thank You_ , then crosses his arms and sighs. “Fine. _Out of My Mind_ first?”

“Yeah,” Nick replies, glad that Warren is letting it go for now. He pries himself from his seat in the corner. “I’ll get set up awhile.”

He leaves that section of the studio and goes into the recording booth where his synthesizers reside. He goes to shut the door behind him, but it only opens more. He turns around and Simon is there, a worried look on his face. Nick lets him in and closes the door.

They look at each other, Simon’s heavy gaze burning through Nick’s conscience. “Thanks for sticking up for me back there.” He half smiles, then looks down. He knows he’s forcing it and it’s not convincing.

Simon is the one to reach out first, just like before, the day they made their promise. He brings a hand under Nick’s chin, gently tilting his head upwards so he can look at him again. “I want to ask you something, and I want the truth.”

“Go on.” Nick wishes he would’ve just come out and asked, instead of making him panic and begin a downward spiral of bad thoughts. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you, Charlie.”

“Is this about John?” Simon keeps his hand under his chin, but spreads his thumb so it caresses his face; a feather light touch, delicate and comforting. 

Nick blinks, wanting to close his eyes and fall right into Simon’s arms. He wants to disappear in his embrace, his problems forgotten for the time being. “It is,” he says simply, though the words hurt to say.

“Oh, Nick,” Simon exhales, keeping his voice low.

Every muscle in Nick’s body sends him forward, damn near crashing into Simon’s chest. He handles the impact well, wrapping his arms around him and keeping him close. Nick curls his fists into Simon’s shirt, both of his arms locked up in his embrace. He feels small, feels like the world is crashing down around him and all he can do is cling to his bandmate, his best friend, his everything and more.

Simon squeezes him tight, then brings a hand up to his head, running his fingers through his hair. “We’re redoing the songs, whether Warren likes it or not. Everything will be okay, yeah?”

Nick doesn’t cry much, hardly ever. Yet now, some crazy how, he feels tears brimming, ready to spill over. His emotions take over; he’s being swept away by them like a forceful ocean tide. The first tear paves a path down his cheek, inevitable, given his current state.

When he doesn’t reply, Simon looks down, noticing that he’s in tears. The sight of him plucks at his heartstrings, plays him as if he were a song. He hates to see Nick cry and he hates that he feels like he might, too. He’s a poet, he should know the right words to say to make those tears stop, but he’s at a loss. Nothing comes to mind.

He instead uses his touch, taking the hand in his hair and using it to cup his face. He backs Nick into the wall behind the door and leans down, molding their lips together. Nick lets out a little squeak of surprise, then soon melts into the kiss completely. Simon’s mouth moves against his, distracting him from the reason why his cheeks are stained with tears.

When they part, Nick notices a subtle tear falling down his face. He reaches to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. He hopes Simon can feel all the love he holds for him in that simple touch, hopes that he’ll understand all that he can’t seem to say right now.

Simon smiles, his eyes watery, and it’s the saddest smile Nick has ever seen on his face in all the years he’s known him. “God, look at us. A wreck.”

“At least we’re a wreck together,” Nick replies with an uneasy tone.

“Yeah, together.” Simon’s still holding his face, reluctant to pull away.

Nick thinks about their promise and his heart swells. Simon is all he needs to get through this. He’s all he wants, too. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The words tumble out of his mouth, careless yet meaningful all the same.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,” Simon utters close to his face, looking directly into his eyes. “Remember our promise.”

“You tell me as if I could forget.” Nick clutches onto his shirt again, not caring if the wrinkles forming there make it obvious what they were up to.

“I know, I just wanted to hear you say that.”

Nick smiles, his tears drying, as well as Simon’s. He knows they’ll be okay, somehow, someway, as long as they stick together and remember the promise they so eagerly made. He also knows that this is more than a one time thing, that the two of them are bound to keep returning to each other like this. He doesn’t mind, not even a little bit. How could he?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve watched the _Out Of My Mind_ video like a hundred times this week. send help.

_February 1997_

Nick looks himself over in a dirty old mirror, checking his makeup before they start rolling. It’s very Arcadia-esque. His smoky and dark lids remind him of those days, the days when he and Simon lived in each other’s pockets. Well, they still do. He smiles to himself at the realization.

He remembers Paris with him, being cooped up in a studio with him, so close yet not close enough. He remembers how he yearned for him, but never could make a move, for too much was at risk. Their world was a crazy whirl of screaming fans, endless press, extravagant weddings, and of course, at the center of it all, was the music. Things were different when they were younger, but Nick finds himself wondering if the stars had been aligned back then, how things would be today. He wonders if they’d be any different if the band wasn’t as big, if they had a little more time to focus on their relationship within the band.

The pressure got to the others before it got to them. Without it, maybe John would still be in the band. Maybe Andy and Roger would’ve stayed, too. Maybe the chain reaction wouldn’t have started and they could still be making music together.

Nick is growing tired of wondering, tired of wishing things were different. A gloomy feeling washes over him, an unexpected wave of sadness. The scenery surrounding him surely isn’t helping matters; everything is old and faded, the set having a strange washed out appearance. It’s what they envisioned for the song, though Nick’s finding out that it’s bringing his mood down.

Simon comes up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looks at him in the mirror, his gaze showing concern. Nick smiles sadly at him. It doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks drained, dead behind the eyes that used to hold so much life. Simon can’t stand to see him like this.

“They want to shoot the balcony scenes first,” he says eventually. “In a few minutes, they’re setting up now.”

The two of them are alone for now, everyone upstairs setting up to shoot. Nick turns to him and notices his exposed chest; the neckline of his undershirt plunging deep enough to show some skin. He’s also wearing a black velvet choker around his neck.

Nick reaches out to touch him, a gentle hand running down his chest. It catches Simon by surprise, his breath hitching at the sudden contact. It’s an innocent action until Simon moves closer to him, grabbing him by the waist so their bodies are flush together. It grows difficult to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

“Are you okay?” Simon asks the question he’s been meaning to ask since he found him, his gaze all sullen while he looked at his reflection.

Nick decides to take the upper hand, shifting the mood between them. It’s like flipping a switch. “I will be, just...”

“Just what?”

Nick whimpers against him, his hand still on his chest. His other hand clutches Simon’s jacket. “Do something, anything.”

“ _Fuck,_ Nick,” Simon curses, knowing they don’t have much time. He still feels the arousal building anyway. Nick has that kind of effect on him.

“We have time, kiss me.”

Simon follows his order blindly, not thinking of the consequences. Nick’s lips mold to his own; the kiss grows heated in no time, both of them desperate for each other. Simon is ready to take it a step further when he hears footsteps coming towards them. He pulls away from Nick before Warren rounds the corner, face flushed and breath uneven.

“I was wondering where you guys were.” Warren’s eyes shift to Nick, then back to Simon. “Everything okay?”

Simon nods, trying to compose himself. It’s not easy. “Yeah. We’re fine.”

Warren doesn’t look convinced. “Alright, well, I’m heading upstairs. They’re almost ready.”

“We’ll be up,” Nick tells him. He’s relieved when he walks away, and he waits till he’s out of earshot to say anything else.

Simon sighs heavily. “That was almost a disaster.”

“You care if Warren finds out?” Nick closes the distance between them again, a deft hand reaching up to cup Simon’s cheek. “Because I don’t.”

“Don’t feel like explaining it.” Simon takes him into his arms again, where he belongs. “And no one wants to get caught snogging.”

Nick chuckles softly. “This is true.”

They're both leaning in again for one last kiss before they head to the set. Simon smiles into it, thinking of their promise.

———

The balcony scene proves to be the shortest and easiest scene of the day, but Nick is a mess the entire time. Simon’s lip syncing to the track as it plays, moving all around him and Warren on the tiny platform. His body is pressed so close to his that he think he may melt into a puddle.

_Could be so sorry  
For the way it had to go_

Simon leans closer to Nick, perching himself up higher as the camera follows his movements. He feels his thighs touch him, reminding him of that intimate moment they had together after they heard John’s news. All in all, it’s quite a subtle brush, but it has him trembling for more. He needs him so badly that it hurts. He needs everything he’ll give and more.

_But now I feel your presence  
In a way I could not know_

The rest of the day is a hazy blur of costume changes, touch-ups, and the models trying to flirt with him. He does his best, trying to play along, but all he’s thinking about is the man beneath the prosthetic makeup. He can’t get him out of his mind.

_And I wonder  
Do you ever feel the same_

Nick knows he does. It does nothing to change the longing he feels, the deep yearning that he can’t seem to chase away. It lives within him.

_In whispering darkness  
Do you ever hear my name?_

The castle is dark and dreary. He and Warren watch as they film Simon’s solo parts, Nick wringing his hands the entire time. He wants him. He _needs_ him.

He can’t escape from this feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Be My Icon_ is my jam. their’s too, apparently...

_March 1997_

“We are not having a song on the album called _Butt Naked_. Not happening.” Nick leans back on Simon’s sofa, reading through their current list of potential tracks for the album. Some of them are questionable, to put it simply.

Simon chuckles next to him. He holds the notebook in his lap so Nick can see it. “Needs a rework, then?”

“Absolutely.” Nick watches as Simon pens a little star next to the song title.

“John’s song,” Simon mutters, regretting bringing his name up as soon as it leaves his mouth.

Nick has changed his tune recently. He’s less mopey and more angry whenever he is mentioned. “Fucking wanker,” he scoffs. “How does that one go again?”

Simon flips back a few pages, knowing he has some scribbles of the lyrics somewhere. _“I’m sitting here butt naked with nothing between me and my shoes. I’ve tried to talk you out of it but you seem so intent on abuse.”_

Nick giggles, resting a hand atop Simon’s arm. “Sounds better when you sing it, Charlie.”

“Does that count as singing?”

“Now that you say that, I’m not sure.”

Simon leans into Nick’s touch without realizing he’s doing it. “Instrumentally, I like this song. So does Warren. It just needs new lyrics.”

“Be my...” Nick trails off, thinking of a word to fit. “Icon.”

Something in the air around them shifts; that desperation takes hold again. It’s a strange mix of that and inspiration, driving them together time and time again.

Simon looks to him. _“You will be my icon.”_

Nick’s eyes grow hungry. “Thought I already was.”

“Oh, you are.” Simon leans in, his breath fanning over Nick’s face. “I think we have ourselves a new title to work around.”

“Let’s get to work, then.”

Nick closes the distance between them, crushing their lips together. Simon throws the pen and notebook to the floor and grabs onto Nick wherever he can. The kiss is too needy for its own good. Simon pulls him into his lap, so he’s on top of him, straddling his thighs.

He tastes that damn pink lipstick that Nick always wears. It’s a chalky taste that would otherwise disgust him, if it weren’t for his fascination with the lips it’s on. He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, his lips parting further to give him better access.

Simon yanks him closer, still not close enough for his liking. His hands run over Nick’s clothed ass. He gasps at the feeling of his big hands on him.

 _“Whatever happens, you’re gonna be with me forever,”_ Nick mumbles against his lips after they part. _“Be my icon.”_

Simon moans lowly, Nick’s voice turning him on. “I’ll be your icon, alright.” He puts his lips on his skin again, this time, leaving a trail from his cheek to his neck. As his kisses go down, he smears his own pink lipstick all over him.

His hands travel up Nick’s body, creeping under his shirt to feel the smooth skin there. He moans and shivers at the much needed contact between them, finally getting that sweet release he’s been craving so desperately.

Nick has him where he wants him. Well, almost. They’re getting there. He holds onto Simon’s shoulders as he gets kissed, the promise whirling around in his head like a tornado of feelings. He grinds down experimentally, teasing Simon’s cock with his body.

“Bedroom, now,” Simon says the exact words Nick’s been wanting to hear. He backs away, ceasing his kisses. Before Nick can even try to slide out of his lap, he takes him into his arms, scooping him up bridal style.

Nick clings to him as he’s carried to Simon’s room. “God, Charlie,” he comments. “Need me bad, huh?”

“More than bad.” He looks at Nick, his heart pumping in his chest wildly.

When they finally get to his bedroom, he throws Nick down on the huge bed and climbs on top of him, hovering. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I do,” Nick quips in reply. “You do the same to me.”

Simon groans. “Only makes me want you more.”

“Have me, that’s why I’m here. In your bed.”

Simon wastes no time getting himself and Nick out of their clothes. It’s almost musical; the sound of garments hitting the floor, the headboard, everywhere and anywhere they happen to land. It’s also a picture of that neediness that comes alive in both of them at times like this. Some call it foolish, some call it hysterical, but they don’t care. They call it a promise. _The_ promise.

Nick is tangled up in his olive colored sheets, milky skin on display, contrasting. He looks like an angel, all splayed out before him. He’s even glowing, too.

Simon always keeps lube and condoms underneath his bed, for reasons. It’s convenient, especially now, while he and Nick have this thing going on. He reaches for them as his partner rests there on his back, waiting for his grounding touch to grace his skin again.

He sighs as Simon’s slick fingers enter him. He wants those hands all over him, wants every inch of his skin caressed by him. He wants marks to be left. He wants to be reminded of their intimate moments together, even when they’re over until the next time.

“Don’t be afraid to be a little rough,” Nick tells him, eyes lidded. “I trust you.”

Simon starts to spread his fingers, going deeper as he watches those beautiful eyes. “I can do rough.” He smiles, then leans in for a kiss.

He bites Nick’s lip as he pulls away, hard enough for it to hurt. It draws a sweet sigh out of him; he’s already falling apart underneath him, feeling so many emotions brewing within him. “I love... that about you.”

“Ready?” Simon asks, though it’s evident that Nick won’t last if he keeps this up. They haven’t got to the best part yet.

“Yeah,” Nick mutters, clutching at the sheets beneath him. He’s so hard he could cry. “Give it to me.”

Simon pulls his fingers out, quickly opening a condom and rolling it down his cock. He coats himself with the lube and throws it across the bed. Nick spreads his legs further, Simon slotting perfectly between them as he pushes in, inch by inch.

Nick throws his hands on him, bringing his body closer to his own. Simon has that look in his eyes he always gets around him, the one that Nick can’t help but believe is only for him. He draws him close with his heels, wrapping his legs around his hips as he starts to move. He fucks him slow at first, then sets up a more brutal pace, as per Nick’s request. _Rough._

“Harder, Charlie,” Nick breathes into his ear, as he drags his nails down his back. They leave red trails in their wake.

Simon responds with a deep thrust that sends Nick’s body forward. Nick cries out, feeling the pleasure everywhere. Simon’s hitting his prostate with every one now, making it difficult for him to last.

 _“I follow you, I wait for you,”_ Simon sings, thinking of the song they were working on before they started. _“You know there’s no escape from me.”_

“Wouldn’t try,” Nick moans, “to escape this.”

“Lyrics, babe.”

Leave it to Simon to think of lyrics during sex. Nick would laugh if he wasn’t being fucked so good right now. “God, you’re insane.”

“A man of many talents... some say.” He reaches for Nick’s cock, pumping him in time with his thrusts.

Nick’s nails are so embedded in the skin of his back that he’s starting to draw blood. He comes without warning all over his hand, Simon’s touches sending him reeling towards his orgasm.

Simon thrusts a few more times, deep and hard. He releases as Nick clenches around him, the stimulation driving him wild. They spend a few long moments just breathing together. The afterglow is upon them, rising like the sun does in the morning.

“Rough enough for you?” Simon asks as he pulls out, tying up the condom and tossing it to the floor.

Nick sighs happily as he crashes down beside him, wrapping the two of them in his now dirty sheets. “I’ll be sore tomorrow, so yes.”

“Good.” Simon wraps his arms around him, inviting him into his warm embrace. “You did a number on my back.”

“I would say sorry, but I’m not.” Nick cuddles into his chest.

“I don’t mind,” he replies. _Reminds me of our promise,_ he thinks, but doesn’t voice.

Nick hooks a leg around Simon, drawing him closer before the sweet afterglow can end. “So, _Be My Icon_.”

Simon chuckles softly. “We’ll finish those lyrics tonight and record tomorrow. But first, I think we should get this mess cleaned up.”

“Ugh, not yet.”

“Alright, in a few minutes.”

Those minutes are cherished by Nick. He soaks up all the attention Simon gives him, tangled up in his sheets, in his bed. The lyrics can wait, for now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for this taking so long!! i got carried away with other projects, as you probably noticed lol. as always, please enjoy!

_June 1997_

“Looking good, Nick!” 

Simon hears Warren’s voice behind him, causing him to turn around. He catches him reaching out to fix Nick’s blue tie. The gesture makes him a little uneasy. He’s suddenly on edge, bothered by something so simple.

He knows that the two of them are close, and have been for a while, but he really can’t stand seeing them near each other like this. A flare of jealousy has him dizzy for a moment.

It’s hard not to be possessive of Nick, given the physicality of their relationship now. They haven’t talked about it. Instead, it keeps happening; they collide over and over again, only to move on without speaking of it when it’s over until the next time. It’s a routine Simon doesn’t want to give up. He’s afraid to mention the elephant in the room, afraid that he’ll lose what he has with Nick if they do talk about it.

He needs him like he never thought he would, and now he has him in ways he never dreamt possible.

The guitarist’s hand lingers on Nick much longer than it needs to. He moves it to his shoulder, and it bothers Simon immensely that he can’t hear the rest of their conversation. Warren has always been a flirt. It really doesn’t surprise him. Still, he hates seeing him touch Nick. He starts towards the two of them, acting casual. He hopes his jealousy isn’t too obvious.

As he approaches, Warren backs away from him finally, and Simon releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. He tries to ease the tension he’s sure is on his face. He’s emotive and can’t help it one bit.

“So, where’s our Barbarella?” Warren asks, turning to Simon.

“ _Electric_ Barbarella,” he replies. “She’s charging, she needs a full battery if she wants to survive this video.”

Nick laughs, making Simon’s heart leap. He loves making him laugh. “Well, she technically isn’t supposed to want anything, right?”

He smiles, looking at Nick’s lovely face. “The laws of robotics don’t have to apply, love.”

Their Barbarella comes into sight, a white robe draped over her shoulders to cover some of her exposed skin. Her lingerie underneath is nude, and at a distance, it’s hard to tell if she’s wearing anything underneath the robe.

Myka smiles sweetly, fanning her fake lashes. She’s a platinum blonde, or at least she appears to be. Her lips are painted bright pink, accentuating her flawless face. She resembles a Barbie doll more than anything. Tall and thin, her presence speaks volumes as she approaches.

It’s time to dim the lights and plug her in.

———

The shoot is turning out to be more fun than Simon expected it to be. He’s surprised at just how robotic Myka can act, the way her arms move in jerky motions and her stoic facial expressions as the three of them ‘set her up’. Her skin is soft and smooth, and she’s quite attractive, though he can’t get his mind off the keyboardist next to him.

He’d much rather have him on the bed, hands wandering and lips caressing his skin, completely enraptured by Nick. He tries to push the distracting daydream away and focus on the video, making it the best he can. He can worry about touching Nick later.

Or so he thinks.

Between shots, Warren’s hands start lingering. Simon doesn’t even notice it at first. He grows less and less subtle as they continue the video, on his back, then his hands and arms. Simon’s evil eye must get to him, though, because he soon stops it altogether.

Shortly after Myka ‘comes to life’, she pulls Nick in for an awkward robotic cheek kiss. Simon smiles but inside he’s screaming. The more he tries to push his jealousy down, it seems everyone else gives him more to be jealous of. It’s a bit frustrating.

Nick’s eyes revert to Simon. He catches his expression and gives him a knowing look while he’s off camera, signifying that he’s caught onto him. The camera pans to Warren as she does the same to him, though he appears to be enjoying it, if the look on his face is any indication.

Simon knows it’s his turn, and he prepares himself as she struts robotically towards him. As her mouth ghosts his cheek, he looks to Nick. The glances they share only make him want him more. He yearns to touch him in the worst way, to feel his smaller body underneath him. He thinks of his orange hair growing mussed, falling in his eyes as his head meets his pillow.

He’s getting distracted again, images of Nick flooding his mind. Warren and Myka are laughing between shots. It must have been something he said to get her to laugh, flirting effortlessly. Simon’s just glad he’s left Nick alone for now. He’s not sure he could take seeing him touch him again.

They’re handed a corset to put on their Barbarella. They get to work as soon as the camera starts rolling again, Nick in front of her and Simon behind. He grabs the strings and pulls them, putting his knee up as he does so. He looks up to see Nick holding her in place. He hopes it’ll make a good shot.

It’s time for her gloves; long, sheer black to contrast her pale skin. Simon stands next to Nick, so close they’re touching as he slips them on, making a show as he does so.

If the outfit wasn’t sleazy enough, in the next shot, a lacy white apron makes an appearance. Warren holds it up to himself with a smile before he nudges her leg apart. He and Nick put it on her as Simon stands behind. Nick then touches up her lipstick, as Myka sits perfectly still on the stool.

They do a few scenes of her alone, jerky while pretending to clean in her maid costume. They all share a laugh together when she brushes Nick’s hair with the tiny broom, then again when she shoves the fluffy pink duster in Warren’s face as if she’s malfunctioning.

Simon’s burning jealousy has changed forms. Instead, it’s now arousal; he can’t take his eyes off Nick.

He gives Myka a pink curling iron, wiggling his brows suggestively. She takes it and falls back on the bed, holding it between her spread legs. He’s sure Warren’s loving the view where he is currently. He hurries to grab the cord from her.

The three of them are then instructed to lie on the bed together, side by side as they fumble with her remote. Nick collapses right next to Simon and he immediately feels hot in his suit, chuckling as he shimmies out of his black vest. Warren is next to him on his other side, Myka standing between his legs.

She starts dancing as the camera follows them, frantically trying to ‘turn her off’. Nick leans into Simon, pressing his body further into him, and it drives him crazy. He must be doing it on purpose, because when the scene is cut, he looks at Simon, lips upturned in a devilish smirk.

He would pounce on him right now if they weren’t surrounded by a camera crew. As he sits up, he vows to later, when the shoot is over.

———

As soon as the shoot is over, everyone distracted by the excitement of the video, Simon grabs Nick by the hand and they slip away together. It’s a dressing room, who it currently belongs to, he’s not exactly sure. He’s too caught up in the moment to care now.

He shuts the door and pins Nick to the wall, lips on his as soon as it latches. Nick moans into his mouth, kissing him back with vigor. He lets himself sink into Simon’s grasp. He’s been thinking of this since they started the video.

Simon’s holding him like he’s worried he’ll get away, but even he knows Nick wouldn’t try that. He wants to be here just as much as he does, wants to kiss him senseless and forget the rest of the world for a few minutes.

“Charlie,” Nick gasps when they part, “I wanted you, I thought about you... all day.”

“I couldn’t stand watching Warren touch you,” Simon admits. “Think he has a thing for you or something?”

Nick cards his hands through Simon’s hair. “Not necessarily. I think he’s just a little frustrated.”

Simon laughs, burying his face in the crook of Nick’s neck. “Myka really had him in a frenzy then, yeah?”

“She did. Bet he’s trying to reel her in right now.”

“While I’m trying to reel you in.”

Nick chuckles softly. “You already did.”

“Good.” A smile stretches across Simon’s face. He leans in to capture Nick’s lips again, this kiss more passionate than the last.

Nick’s tongue slips into his mouth and the kiss deepens, but not for long. The door opens, revealing who neither of them care to see at the moment: Warren. It’s his worst timing yet. Simon draws back but it’s no use, he already saw everything.

There’s an awkward beat of silence between the three of them. Warren opens the door further and lets himself in, shutting it quickly behind him. Nick is still against the wall, a faint blush on his cheeks. Simon stands a pace away, equally as flushed in the face.

“I figured you two, uh, had _something_ going on.” Warren looks at Simon, then at Nick. “I’ll leave. I just want you to know that I’m cool with it.”

“Warren, I know. You’ve been with guys, remember?” Nick recalls his stories, how he told them in such colorful detail. He’s oddly good at that.

“Yeah, yeah. No secret I guess.”

Simon shakes his head. “Not at all.”

Warren’s hand is on the doorknob, ready to leave his bandmates to do what they were doing before he interrupted them. “I’ll go. You guys make a hot couple.”

There’s no time for either of them to reply, Warren is already out of the room. They share a look in place of words; neither know just what to say about that right now.

“Can we try that again?” Simon asks, backing Nick into the wall again. “Without our guitarist walking in on us?”

Nick pulls him closer by his hips. “I don’t think he’ll try to come in here again.”

“I don’t know, Nick, I think he has a thing for threesomes...”

Nick makes a face, indicating where he stands on that. “Absolutely not. I want _you_ , not him.”

Simon is glad to hear those words from him. He connects their lips once more, but he can’t get Warren’s words out of his head. He thinks they’re a couple. A _hot_ couple.

The word echoes in his mind. Couple.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something small before shit hits the fan. you know the story, but here’s my twist ;)

_October 1997_

There’s still a John-shaped hole in the band, even after completing the album and setting off for a mini promo tour in the United States. The empty feeling comes and goes; Nick prefers to be distracted from it all. He still worries, still thinks of him every single day.

But thinking of him hurts. Even recalling their best memories, like filming the _Rio_ videos in the hot tropic sun, bring him a dreary feeling he can’t stand. He remembers being on the back of that elephant, clinging to his best friend for dear life, with huge smiles on their faces. They were soaked, slipping and laughing as the camera filmed them from below.

They didn’t know it at the time, but they were in their prime. They were young and careless and had the world at their feet. They had success, money, and plenty of attention. Everything they could ever want was to be had. Even then, John was falling fast, losing himself in it all. Nick noticed, but he noticed when it was already too late.

Sometimes he blames himself. Other times he blames the extensive touring, all the women who toyed with him (though he toyed with them right back), Andy’s influence, and the list goes on. His battle with their past is inward, and though it’s not easy, he keeps it to himself.

He lets out his frustrations in bed with Simon, through rough sex that clears his mind of all else. He still finds that comfort with him, finds solace in his touch when he feels his world is crumbling beneath him. Nick can feel the love he gives, and he’s hoping Simon knows he does. _So much._

They don’t talk about their relationship, instead, they quietly dance around the subject. They get close and ease back again, hesitant and afraid to ruin the life they’ve built around each other. But they have never been fragile; holding up a dying band isn’t easy. Their strength is admired by Warren, who’s apart of it all, yet on the sidelines at the same time.

Nick should be ecstatic about the album, excited to share his hard work. He’s not. He feels nothing, just a gaping void he can’t fill, an absence he can’t quite get over. He remembers the day John gave them the news. It’s engrained in his mind so clear, though at the time, he felt a dense fog surrounding him. Mixed emotions stir within him and cause trouble. He’s trying to heal himself and only ends up breaking, breaking, _breaking_.

Warren and Simon try to keep him together, each in their own way. Warren tells stories of his time in other bands, talking until Nick can’t stand his voice anymore. Simon holds him close, his strong arms wrapped around him so he feels protected. But he’s protecting him too. They protect each other, it comes naturally, without thinking.

Simon’s not taking it well either. Having Nick around soothes his mind, though he finds himself struggling more as the days crawl by. The studio feels empty. The record is missing the funky bass lines of their earlier albums, the instrument altogether buried in layers of production. He longs for the past again. He longs for the missing piece of their puzzle. The picture’s looking incomplete, unrecognizable when compared to how it’s supposed to look.

He’s hurting, brooding endlessly. His mind reverts back to the video shoot for _Serious_ , not so long ago now, and yet, it feels like forever. John looked off, not himself. Creating _Liberty_ was a struggle. They thought they had something better than what they did, something to put them back on the map again in the new decade. It didn’t happen. And Simon could feel the fall, like being on a rollercoaster gaining speed as the elevation decreases rapidly.

But along came _Duran Duran_ , and everything changed for the better. Things were looking up. Simon thought John marrying Amanda would be good for him, would save him from sinking further. He couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Up and down, up and down. The band is now sinking to levels they never thought they’d see, and it’s scary. It’s scary to think that all it will take now is for Nick to give up. Simon refuses to do this without him. He wouldn’t even consider it.

They made their promise, a pact to stay together no matter how bad things get. They’re being tested now. The promise is bending, but not breaking. They are strong together, they can withstand whatever is thrown at them.

Simon leans against Nick in the back of the car on their way to a radio show. He turns his head and subtly kisses his hair. A soft smile stretches across his face. He reaches over and squeezes his knee. He knows they’ll arrive soon, and he hates to think of parting from him.

He knows they’re doing fine, even though things haven’t been so easy lately. At least the album is finished and out. That has to count for something.

The two of them stay like that until it’s time to get out, savoring each other’s warmth. Warren glances over and catches the looks they give each other. They’re so caught up in their world and it brings a smile to his face. He can’t help it—they’re perfect together.

Sitting beside him during the interview, Nick thinks about telling Simon that he loves him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m gunning it with this fic now, i just adore how it’s turning out! and don’t worry, happy ending here, of course!

_August 1999_

Simon taps his pen against his leg, wishing the words would just come to him like they used to. He wishes this could be easier; he’s never had writer’s block quite this bad before. He’s restless and wants to throw his notebook across the room.

He’s angry with himself. He’s frustrated with the album, though it’s in the early stages of development now. He tosses the notebook and pen to the floor and sinks into the sofa, letting the bout of block win once again.

Warren comes in a few minutes later, eyeing Simon’s slouching form. He raises a brow, then goes over to join him. His eyes are closed and he almost looks like he’s asleep. He opens them as he feels the cushion next to him dip. He was hoping it would be Nick, not Warren, and now he’s a little disappointed.

“Taking a nap?” Warren asks, sitting back and glancing at him. 

Simon sighs heavily. He doesn’t move. “No, just thinking.”

Warren leans down to pick up his notebook. The page it’s open to is full of scribbled out words and lines, a mess of blue ink. In the top margin are the words _Someone Else Not Me_.

_I guess you've known it for a while_   
_That I mean trouble_   
_I only want to see you smile_   
_And I burst this bubble_

“I hate it.” Simon watches Warren read his lyrics. “It’s awful.”

“It’s not,” Warren tells him. “It’s different from your usual stuff though.”

Warren picks up on his sour mood right away. It’s not like Simon to be this way. He’s usually much more lively, bright and happy even when times are hard. Something is off with him, he’s wearing down and Warren hates to see it.

_And I could carry on with you  
Does that sound crazy?  
I think you feel the same way too  
And you can't face it_

“I know you hate when I ask, but who is this about?” 

Simon throws his head back and groans. “I really do hate when you ask that, Warren.”

Warren half smiles, wishing he could make him feel better somehow. “You don’t have to tell me, I’m just wondering. It’s raw emotion.”

He figures he may as well tell him before he guesses anyway. It’s not like they’ve been working with a lot of people recently. Hell, they’re making this whole damn album by themselves. He sits up, moves closer, and looks at his words on the page.

_The hardest thing_   
_Is to let go_

“Nick,” Simon blurts out. “It’s about Nick. It’s... it’s complicated.”

Warren looks confused more than anything. He sees the sad look in Simon’s eyes and he’s lost for words. “What happened with you two?”

Simon takes the notebook back, closing it and placing it on the table beside the sofa. He squeezes the bridge of his nose, looking down at the studio floor. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts. His mind has been a disaster lately. “Nothing. I’m just an idiot.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because two years have passed and I still haven’t told him.”

“You... wait,” Warren says, feeling like he’s been left in the dark. “Haven’t told him what?”

Simon sighs again. “That I love him. That I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I don’t know why, I just let it get away from me. The longer I wait, the worse it gets.”

It’s Warren’s turn to sigh. “Damn, Simon. Here I thought the wedding was already planned.”

He laughs, praying Nick doesn’t walk into this conversation.

“So it really has been two years of this? Of you two fucking and not talking about your feelings?”

“I... yeah.”

Warren puts his face in his hands. He was under the impression they were at least together already. He’s disappointed, yet not entirely surprised. “Fucking hell. If I were you, I’d buy him a ring right now. Marry him, take him on a nice honeymoon. Forget the album.”

Simon’s face flushes at the thought. He doesn’t have time to respond, because the door opens to reveal his one and only. He smiles when he sees Simon, their eyes meeting.

Warren takes the hint and gets up so he can sit next to him. Nick happily takes his spot, though he keeps a little bit of distance between them.

“Any new lyrics?” he asks. 

_Fuck_ , Simon thinks. He doesn’t particularly want to show Nick his latest song, fearing he will get the wrong impression. That will surely prevent any marriage from happening, and he’s not even sure Nick would be down for that in the first place.

“Nothing finished yet. Bits and pieces that need sorting,” he half-lies. _Someone Else Not Me_ may have to be shelved forever, like some of his other more open and easily interpretable lyrics.

“Oh, alright. Just wondering.”

Warren is already gone when Simon looks up. He dropped that marriage bomb on him and now he’s left to deal with the wreckage in his mind. He looks to Nick’s fingers, bare of any rings, and he imagines slipping one onto his finger, holding his right hand steady with tears in his eyes.

Nick seems to notice. He moves closer to Simon. “What’s wrong?”

Simon looks into his eyes, and though he’s probably done it thousands of times, he still feels the same rush. “Nothing’s going right, this album. And we’ve barely started it.”

“It’ll get easier, once we have more down.” Nick watches his face, how stressed he looks. It’s not like him. He moves to cup Simon’s cheek, but Simon stops him, his hand grasping his.

Simon watches his expression change and he hates it, hates that he can’t get the right words out, too. His mouth opens and closes but he draws a blank. He never thought it would be this hard. “Sorry,” he mutters, squeezing Nick’s hand before letting go. “I’m... I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“Think we ought to call it a day.” Nick smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You look knackered.”

“I _am_ knackered.” He pats Nick’s knee, then rests his hand there. “Any clue where Warren went?”

Nick shakes his head. “None at all. I was too worried about you. I still am.”

Simon trails his hand up, running along the outside of Nick’s thigh. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, but he does, and his head is still a mess of thoughts of making this man his. He’s afraid he’s already doing it wrong, though he didn’t get to ask him yet.

Before he knows it, he’s leaning forward and connecting their lips. It’s been a little while since they’ve kissed and he’s been craving it, wanting to taste his mouth. Nick seems surprised at first, but he soon responds, moving his lips against Simon’s. It’s a comforting union, familiar and pure delight.

He lets Simon push him back, falling backwards into the sofa. The hand that was on his thigh travels up, his touch heavy with intent as they deepen the kiss. Nick feels Simon hovering over him, like he has so many times before. He remains gentle. He cradles him; he’s trying to say all that he can’t seem to get off his chest right now.

They part with a soft sigh. Simon supports himself with one arm on the back of the sofa, the other curled around Nick’s waist.

Nick brings his hands up to Simon’s face, the tips of his fingers careful. He looks into his eyes, then at his lips again, longing evident in his gaze. “Charlie, we shouldn’t be doing this here,” he says, a smile stretching across his face.

He has always been less serious in his presence.

Simon dips down again and attaches his lips to Nick’s jawline. He wants to completely lose himself in him, forget everything else and have Nick be the center of his universe for a little while. Or maybe even forever. He could deal with that.

It’s like nothing has changed between them, which is equal parts good and bad. Simon wants change. As he kisses down his neck, he imagines how things could be. And he’s never yearned for something so much in his life.

“You’re okay, right?” Nick asks, fingers in Simon’s hair now as his lips work their magic. “We can talk if you need to.”

Simon doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “I just need you,” he says against his skin. It’s not the declaration of love he’s been planning, but it’s close. 

That seems to be enough for Nick, since he pulls him closer, two beautiful hands on his shoulders. Warren could walk back in any moment now, but he should be used to catching them in the act. And if he isn’t yet, well, that’s unlikely. It’s been so long.

Simon hopes his touch conveys the words he still hasn’t said. He knows they can’t go all the way right here and now, so he makes the most of what they can do with their clothes on. They’ll continue when they leave the studio and fall into one of their beds instead.

As they kiss, the new album is the least of their worries. But those lyrics still stick in Simon’s mind, and really, he’s right.

_The hardest thing_   
_Is to let go_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up, it’s an emotional one! i adore writing this fic!!

_September 1999_

The moment Nick feels Simon’s lips on his, the panic sets in.

They're halfway through their show, and Simon has wandered back to him. At first, he’s glad to be near him. As he’s playing, he starts to lean in. It’s so normal to him. So normal to _them_. But it’s always behind closed doors, their kisses. And everything else they’ve done together.

It’s just a quick, playful peck on the lips. He smiles into it, though inside, he’s losing his mind. The fans in the front row erupt in screams. He doesn’t look at them, he puts his head down as he watches Simon prance away out of the corner of his eye.

Nick, for the first time in his career, is worried what people will think. Their sales haven’t even been half as good as they were fifteen years prior. He finds himself growing angry with Simon, his emotions changing forms again and again. The past couple years have been rough. He wants to blame someone for it, so the stress doesn’t fall on his shoulders and crush him.

He thinks of Roger, Andy, and John. Their Taylors. He looks up at Simon. He doesn’t know how much more he can take. He’s afraid he’s slipping, just as John did. Thinking about it breaks him in two. He tries not to make it obvious, and plays the rest of the show with his head down, feigning concentration. 

When the show is over and the three of them have waved goodbye to tonight’s crowd, Nick gets right off the stage and tries to leave. Before he can sneak away though, Simon’s there, rushing after him.

“Where are you going?” Simon sounds worried, exasperated. He moves and stands in front of the dressing room door. “Aren’t you going to wait for me and Warren?”

Nick pushes past him, needing to get out now. He really hates to do this to him. He doesn’t know what else to do; his mind is a wreck and he doesn’t want to make a mistake in the heat of the moment. “Just let me be, Charlie.”

“Something’s wrong, you... you never act like this.” Simon’s walking next to him now, trying to follow. “Please, Nick.”

“Please, what?” Nick stops, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t want this to become a screaming match between them.

“Talk to me. Is it...” Simon trails off, realizing what he’s done. He hates himself right now for doing something so stupid and careless. He should have known kissing him onstage like that wasn’t a good idea.

Nick looks around frantically, hoping there’s no one about to come down this corridor anytime soon. They’ll certainly get a hell of a show. “Don’t try to snog me in public, yeah?”

Simon’s too close to him and yet not close enough. He has a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, feeling they were doomed from the very start. “I’m sorry, Nick, I—”

“Save it, I need to go.”

“Nick, _don’t_.” Simon reaches out, he tries to grab his hand but fails. Nick is too fast.

“Don’t touch me either!”

Both their hearts are breaking and they’re too foolish to admit it. They stand face to face in the corridor and share a look. Simon wants to cry, for he fears that this is the end: of their relationship, and of Duran Duran entirely. He’s slipping through the cracks of his fingers and he feels so helpless. Hopeless, too. Nick starts to walk away again.

Simon recalls the promise they made, and he starts to wonder if it still means anything to him. “Save it till when?” he calls after him.

Nick turns around. He’s got tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over any moment now. Though it’s proving to be difficult, he’s trying his best to hold himself together. “Save it till the morning after, Charlie.”

Simon watches him go, then drags himself back to his dressing room. He locks the door and breaks down, sliding down the wall with his face in his hands. He’s praying there’s a glimmer of hope in Nick’s words, just as there’s a glimmer of hope in the song that’s in his head tonight. It’s a song from back when everything between them started, almost three years ago now.

_You and I don't always fly  
Let me go I want to fall  
Deep into the dark  
But I'll get back to you  
And I'll always know how to find you  
‘Cause you shine like the midnight sun_

He’ll get back to Nick, he’d find him anywhere. He shines like the midnight sun.

———

Nick wakes from a restless sleep in his hotel room to a knock on the door. He doesn’t move for a few moments, hoping whoever it is will go away, but no such luck. They knock again, then again, and force him to untangle himself from the sheets to see what they could possibly want.

It’s still quite dark out. The sky from his window is a dark shade of blue, indicating that the sun will be up soon. Nick looks at the digital clock beside the bed, telling him it’s just after five in the morning.

_Save it till the morning after_

There’s another knock, harder this time. Nick rises and tiptoes to the door. He looks out the peephole and his eyes are met with the man whose heart he shattered last night.

Simon. _His_ Simon. His heart thumps wildly, a strange kind of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had told him, with his own lyrics, to save it till the morning. He supposes it could be considered morning now, though he would much rather wake at noon. _Fucking hell_.

He cards a hand through his hair, mostly out of anxiousness. He takes a deep breath, the suspense eating away at him, and lays his hand upon the doorknob. It seems to unlock with a will all of its own.

When he pulls the door back, and sees Simon standing before him, Nick wants to throw himself into his arms and carry on with their lives, with what they’ve made their norm. But there’s a certain conversation they need to have before they go any further. It’s a conversation that has been put off for far too long. Years. He’s nervous, excited, and everything in between. 

They look at each other for a long moment, saying nothing. Simon’s bright blue eyes look tired, lacking the vibrancy they usually have. Nick grins, but it’s hardly a happy grin. He’s stressed and looks about as good as Simon does. He knows he needs to face this. The two of them need to face this, together.

“We need to talk.” It’s Simon who shatters the silence, gazing down at Nick.

“Come in.” Nick steps aside to let him through.

He toes off his shoes at the door and paces into the hotel room. Nick follows his movements, sitting down with him on the edge of the bed. He wishes his heartbeat would steady; it’s a hammering in his chest, a wild thumping beat that he can’t easily ignore.

Simon sets his hands on his knees, a deep exhale indicating that he’s feeling quite the same as Nick. He looks at him, his face bathed in blue hues of the early morning. His features are still prominent even in the low light. This is it.

“I’ll start off by saying that I shouldn’t have kissed you onstage like that last night. That wasn’t such a good move on my part.” Simon’s voice is rough, like he’s spent the better part of his night crying his heart out. “I really am sorry.”

“I... This all could have been avoided. It’s my fault, too. For not saying anything before.” Nick looks at his hands, then at Simon’s hands. So much was left unsaid for so long, but maybe, just maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.

Simon eyes fall upon Nick’s disheveled hair. He wants to reach out and fix the blonde and brown mess, a tender touch. “Guess we should have talked about this a long time ago.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

“Better late than never?”

Nick nods. “Of course.” He thinks back to the beginning, the _very_ beginning, when he found himself drawn to their new singer. It was so long ago now, but the years just seem to melt away when he looks at Simon. “How long?”

Simon raises a brow. “How long what?”

“When did you realize you wanted me?”

“Oh.” Simon leads himself all the way down memory lane, trying to retrace his steps in his mind.

He sees Nick smiling and laughing in Sri Lanka, happy in the blistering tropic sun. His skin wasn’t tanned yet, he was still quite pale, yet he had a colorful vibrancy to him. A tint to his cheeks. Maybe that was just makeup. And his lips, sparkling in the natural light, were so fixating to Simon. The memory stands the test of time; it’s so vivid that it feels real. Perhaps he could reach out, touch him even.

“Sri Lanka.”

Nick’s heart drops, sinks all the way to the floor. “ _Charlie_ , oh my god.”

“And what about you?” He throws the question right back at him, his own nerves eating him alive.

“It sounds so ridiculous,” Nick chuckles, “but as soon as you auditioned for the band, I knew.”

Nick can tell Simon’s wishing for a redo. He is, too, yet he knows better than to regret anything so deeply. Things were different then, they were different then. There’s no sense in mulling over the past, it’s water under the bridge now. 

Nick puts his face in his hands. “Twenty years.”

“Twenty _bloody_ years.” Simon moves closer to him, extending a hand and gently tugging at Nick’s arm. “Look at me, love.”

He feels Simon’s touch, it warms him to his bones. He looks up at him and is met with the most loving eyes he’s ever seen in his lifetime.

“I was scared. I’m guessing you were too, that’s why we dated models. Married models. Maybe that was the right thing to do at the time, but... how could we have known?” Simon’s voice has softened with use, his words soothing.

“I _was_ scared. I tried to push it all away, forget how much I wanted you, but every single time I did, it all came back stronger. I was so frustrated with myself.”

“With me too, I bet.”

That earns a soft laugh out of Nick. “At times, yes.”

Simon places a hand on his knee. His hand is warm, comforting. “Remember our first kiss? In Paris?”

“How do _you_ remember that? You were even more drunk than I was!”

“I don’t know, I just think it’s funny how we both remember though.”

Nick remembers Simon’s lips crashing against his own. It was 1985, with the Arcadia album on the rise. They had been out together all night and one too many drinks were had. One thing lead to another and there they were, kissing in a dark corner where the flashing lights didn’t quite reach.

He never thought it would happen again, never thought anything would come of it. It just took a little more time, but eventually, something did. It was worth the wait, Nick reckons.

Simon eyes him, his hand still resting on his knee. He can see his face better now, the sun is starting to come up. “Nick?”

“Simon?”

“I love you.”

There it is, at last. Nick takes his hand from his knee and laces their fingers together. It’s rare that he holds his hand, but he’d like to change that, among some other things.

It takes him a few moments to get the words out, but soon enough, he whispers: “I love you too.”

They’ve both been tearing up in the gentle morning light. This beautiful moment is one almost twenty years in the making, the confession they were both too scared to make before today. Now that it’s here, they’re struck by such a strong feeling of adoration they don’t know what to do with themselves.

The hard part is over. They’ve come out the other side together.

Nick throws his arms around Simon, squeezing him tighter than he ever did before. Simon chuckles, so happy he could die, and squeezes right back. He pulls Nick in as close as he can, half into his lap. Tears flow from their eyes without holding back. They clutch each other with no intention of ever letting go.

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Nick,” Simon says against the shell of his ear. “No matter who was there, it was always you.”

Nick cries harder, burying his face in Simon’s shoulder. Inside his warm embrace is where he wants to stay forever. “I love you so much, Charlie.”

There’s a kiss to be shared, and Simon draws back slightly to initiate it. Nick takes to it right away, though his eyes are a watery mess, he kisses him back with fervency. He feels the heat of his mouth everywhere, encasing him, making him feel the safest he has ever felt.

Simon holds his face, lips upturned when he feels Nick climb fully into his lap. He takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, nipping and sucking lightly. It shifts the mood between them. Nick grabs onto the front of his sleep shirt, the fabric bunched up in his pretty fingers.

The kiss ends with a whimper, Nick trying to control himself but failing so sweetly. He grinds down on Simon, his lips brushing his own. He can feel his breath on his face, close and loving, the two of them cherishing every passing moment together as if it were their last. But this is only the beginning of their new chapter together.

Simon moves to press his lips to his cheek, kissing away the tear stains. He smiles, because there’s a blazing light within him that he can’t hide away anymore. He’s riding so high and Nick is to thank.

“I just want to make love to you,” he says, voice dripping in tenderness.

“Please, please do.” Nick wants him, _needs him_ , right now.

It’s not their first time, and it surely won’t be their last, but it holds so much significance.

“No rushing, no hurting each other this time.” Nick runs his hands down his chest, slow and sensual. “Make this last for me.”

Simon is willing to do anything for him. He knows Nick would do the same for him. “Of course.”

“Stuff in my suitcase, in the bathroom,” Nick says before he slides out of his lap and onto the bed.

He watches him get up and works on himself awhile, stripping down completely. He slips underneath the sheets and fluffy duvet to wait for his prompt return. He refrains from touching himself, instead, he watches the sky out the window. It’s starting to change colors again, a brighter dawn on the way.

Simon returns, noticing the pile of Nick’s clothes on the floor near the bed. He smiles to himself. “Hmm, thought you said no rushing?”

“That part isn’t fun for anyone involved, and you know it.”

“If you say so, darling.”

Simon lifts the covers and joins him, dropping the condom and lube in the sheets. He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor carelessly. Nick reaches over to help with the rest of him, his fingers brushing his skin as he does so.

The two of them are a giggling mess, tangled in soft sheets, far away from their home. But home isn’t always a place, sometimes it’s a someone.

Soon enough, Simon matches Nick. He climbs on top of him, cock in hand, starting to pump him. He presses his lips to his neck, leaving a trail of chaste kisses along his warm skin. Nick sighs, already incredibly turned on.

He stops and Nick returns the favor, Simon moaning against him as he works. Simon feels around in the sheets for the lube, finally closing his fingers around it after struggling for a few seconds.

Nick lets him go, easing back. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so careless,” he quips. “Throwing things around.”

“Don’t nag me, you’re ruining the moment,” he tells Nick, uncapping the bottle with a smirk.

“Alright, alright. Slow, remember?”

Simon nods. “Slow,” he repeats. He slicks up two fingers, Nick watching him intently. “Ready?”

“Go ahead.”

He presses them into him, watching his eyes the entire time. They’re brimming with love. He starts to move, gentle motions, slow and steady.

Nick watches him too, how the light hits the side of his face. He’s still the same man who auditioned for Duran nearly twenty years prior, just a little older. Nick thinks he’s even better looking with time, the subtle new lines on his face making him more attractive. He looks like an angel, those blue eyes of his brighter now.

He adds a finger and spreads them inside Nick, going deeper. He feels a jolt of pleasure and grabs the sheets, clutching. Simon knows his body well.

“You... you’re so beautiful,” Nick moans. The fresh sunlight graces Simon’s hair as well, and he really wishes he could take a picture of him right now, to capture this moment and cherish it forever.

“That’s _you_.” Simon continues to work him open, his touch like heaven.

Nick gasps; those damn fingers of his are just too good. He can’t wait any longer. “Now, please.”

“Okay, just a second.”

He finds the condom with ease, luckily. He pulls his fingers out of Nick and he helps him again, opening the foil packet with deft fingers. Nick hands it to him and Simon rolls it down his hard cock, then slicks himself up. He starts to sink into Nick, inch by inch, slow and steady.

His tight heat around his aching cock makes it hard to stay still, but he manages. Nick reaches out for his hand, intertwining their fingers. He squeezes it lightly, eyes slipping closed as he breathes, getting used to his size.

“Okay, love?”

Nick opens his eyes again, meeting Simon’s gaze. “I’m okay, you can move.”

Still holding his hand, Simon starts to thrust, long and deep. His other hand is on the mattress beside Nick’s waist, steadying himself. He’s eye to eye with him now. He has so much to say still, but the words have turned to movements; he’s saying them with his body.

“I still mean that promise,” Simon says between thrusts. “I always will.”

“I do too,” Nick replies, a little more wrecked than he was a few minutes ago.

Simon picks up the pace, leaning down to kiss Nick’s lips. They’re so soft against his own he could just melt into a puddle. Nick kisses him with pure passion, lashes fluttering as Simon moves inside him.

The pressure is building and Nick holds back, the sweet pleasure everywhere. He’s feeling so much and it’s all coloring his world in beauty. He looks at Simon and for the thousandth time, he knows he’s the one. He’s been the one for a very long time.

He thrusts and hits his prostate dead on, making Nick cry out. He’s getting closer, but he wants to savor each and every moment they have this way.

Simon suddenly recalls what Warren said in the studio to him a little over a month ago. _Marry him, take him on a nice honeymoon._ He should’ve asked a long time ago, but now is so much better than never.

As he’s approaching his climax, he knows he has to ask. Right now. “I love you,” he starts off, watching Nick get closer too. “Marry me?”

Nick’s eyes go wide in surprise. “Simon,” he sighs out. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Nick feels hot tears forming again, his emotions getting the best of him. He has never wanted anything more. “Yes,” he replies, “I will.”

They come undone together in the light of the morning, the new day. Everything has changed in the best possible way. But they’re still the same, drawn together time and time again. They’re each other’s destiny.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the wait! i lost track of this. here it is and i hope you enjoy, much love!!

_August 2000_

It all fell into place so quick, as if it was meant to be. Maybe it was. Is there any way to really tell?

Their marriage happened discreetly, with no extravagant public ceremony. It had come as a bit of a surprise to some friends and family, the ones included, at least. They didn’t need to know the details. They spent so many years in denial and couldn’t wait any longer once it was decided. When all was said and done, they both felt at peace; their love validated and solidified and their uncertainty lifted.

As the tour started up, they toyed with the idea of reuniting the band. Like magic, there was John, back in their orbit again. Before Simon could process what was happening, the two of them were on stage together again, his new wife Gela’s menswear launch to thank.

He was beaming the entire night. It felt good to play together again, singing their classics like no time had passed. Simon knew he had to at least _try_ to get something to happen.

Without mentioning anything about any sort of reunion, he agreed to bring Nick around and have dinner with them.

The keyboardist tries not to let it show, but inside, he’s freaking out. He can’t remember the last time he spoke with John. His hands tremble as they make their way to his place, restless in silent agony as he thinks of what he could say. How can he even begin to repair the damage he helped to cause to their relationship?

Simon notices, of course he does. He reaches over and slots his fingers between the spaces of his own, a comforting gesture to help calm his nerves. Nick looks down and catches sight of their rings together. He smiles.

As the car accelerates towards their destination, he is soothed by Simon’s thumb tenderly caressing the back of his hand. 

———

Gela is the perfect match for John. Witty, bright, and evidently very loving, it’s easy to see just how much he benefits from having her in his life. It’s so good to see him in this state, healed from his addiction. He has his life back, and it’s clear that he only improves more with each passing day.

Dinner is all laughs and light catching up. There’s no alcohol involved, a big change from their time together in the early days.

Though everything goes smoothly, there’s an elephant in the room. Nick and John both know how dire it is that they have a certain conversation at some point or another. Simon and Gela pick up on their obvious tension, an uneasy feeling between them.

They’re not kids anymore, things aren’t so easy. Emotions and hardships dealt with poorly complicate their lives, a twisted tangle of broken promises and threadbare dreams. A revival is needed for Duran and for their tattered friendship.

Nick is somewhat relieved when John asks him to come upstairs. He knows what’s coming, the private conversation they were meant to have all along. The conversation that should have been had long ago, before it ever had the chance of getting this bad.

It’s all water under the bridge now; no sense in clinging onto the useless _what ifs_. Live and learn.

“You have a beautiful place, John.” Nick runs his hand along the railing as they make their way up. He and Simon have been house hunting themselves, looking for the perfect place to settle down together.

John turns back and beams, that smile unchanged since he still went by Nigel. It warms his heart. So much has changed and yet there’s still something familiar to cherish.

There’s hope scattered among the rubble. There’s a way they can turn everything around.

“Thank you. I thought you’d like it.”

He leads him into a bright room with bass guitars lining the walls. A piano sits against a large bookcase filled with books and photos. It’s very John, a paradise of his own.

Nick treads lightly into the room, careful footfalls just a step behind his best friend. He starts to wonder if he can still refer to him as such, but his pondering is cut short by John patting the bench in front of the piano, welcoming him as he settles in himself.

Wordlessly, Nick sits down next to him. The keys before him beg for the brush of someone’s hand, to urge beautiful melodies out of the instrument. John beats him to it, long fingers resting gently in place before pressing down. He keeps his in his lap, that nervousness making a return.

John starts to play a soft rendition of a familiar tune. It sounds like a lullaby played like this, and maybe it has the potential to be. _Save A Prayer_ brings some warmth back between them again, chasing away the cool winter chill that the time apart brought.

He hums softly as his hands move across the keys. Nick is swept away by the music, worries subsiding. He looks to John, watching the side of his face as he plays. He’s starting to age a little more, but he doesn’t seem to mind it. There’s a gleam of youth in his eyes. A little bit of naive, dorky, sweet Nigel is still there.

John stops playing, noticing Nick’s eyes on him. “You look like you’re about to apologize.”

Nick opens his mouth, but John stops him. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine,” he says, like he’s rehearsed this a hundred times.

“I hurt you, John. I could have been there for you and instead I ran away. I pushed you away, I—”

“I hurt you by leaving. I shouldn’t have done it the way I did. I wasn’t in the right headspace to be making decisions, fucking everyone over like that. Myself included.” John seems adamant to take the blame, breaking Nick’s heart.

Nick places a hand on his arm, a gentle touch. “I’m not upset with you for leaving,” he utters, keeping his voice soft. “I’m upset with how we let our friendship fall apart.”

John looks in his eyes, green murky with feeling. Usually someone so strong and resilient, he is showing such vulnerability, losing the control over himself he takes pride in having. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am, Nick.”

“Don’t worry about me. You had enough on your plate already.”

“I did worry about you. I will _continue_ to worry about you. I thought about you a lot, thought about calling you all the time but I could never gather the courage to pick up the goddamn phone. I convinced myself you didn’t care. That you wouldn’t let me back in the band even if I begged you. I thought you would hate me for what I did.” John has tears forming in his eyes, a deep breath more like a stutter. “I needed you back in my life and I didn’t know how to get you back.”

“Nigel,” Nick sighs. He hasn’t called him by his birth name in years. “Come here.”

They turn and embrace, clinging to each other for dear life on the piano bench. It’s the embrace they’ve both needed for a long time, gluing their broken pieces back together, further mending the pain they’ve put each other through.

Nick buries his face in his shoulder, so content to be close to him again. “I’m sorry it had to be this way. I could never hate you, John. You know that, right?”

John nods against him, trying hard to fight back the tears.

“You can come back if you want. The door is open for you, always will be.”

“You really want me to?”

Nick pulls back but stays close to him. “Of course we do. We’ve missed you terribly the past couple years, both me and Charlie.”

“Okay. We can talk more about it downstairs. With him.” John is smiling now, still misty-eyed.

There’s a tear threatening to fall and Nick watches him blink it away. It streams down his face, paving a fresh track. He reaches up and wipes it away with his thumb, the bittersweet moment toying with his emotions as well. He’s tearing up too; he has missed him more than words could explain.

As he pulls his hand away, John reaches out to grab it. “What’s... what’s this, Nick?” he asks. He is gentle, Nick’s manicured fingers delicate against his own. His eyes are drawn to a golden ring, in a place he hasn’t worn a ring in many years.

“ _Oh_.” It occurs to Nick that John has no idea. His cheeks tint pink. “It’s a long story that Simon and I will have to tell you sometime soon.”

John touches it, fingertips brushing over the new glinting wedding band. “Oh my god, I’ve missed your wedding.”

“Don’t worry, we almost did too.”

“We...” John trails off, glancing up at Nick. “You and _Simon?_ ”

Nick nods, dropping the bomb and watching the shock form on his best friend’s face.

“Holy fucking shit! I didn’t even know you were together. And all this happened while I was gone?”

“Sort of. It was twenty years in the making. Yeah, a little complicated, but we figured it out eventually. Together.”

John pulls him in for another hug, his eyes drying. He squeezes him like he could slip away if he doesn’t keep him close enough. “I’m so happy for you two. I can’t wait to tease Simon about it later. I could’ve sworn he always had a thing for you.”

“So you’re telling me everyone knew but us?”

“I bet. I was wondering why he was looking at you like that at dinner, heart eyes and all.”

Nick laughs softly against his shoulder, feeling warm. “Well, now you know.”

“Are you happy? Stupid thing to ask and all, but... I would feel better hearing you say it.” John pulls away this time, hand on his shoulder and looking deep into his face.

“Yeah. I’m even better with you here. How about yourself? I get the impression that Gela is your everything.”

John can’t deny that. “I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time, thanks to her. She’s amazing.”

Nick can tell that’s the truth. He’s practically glowing, radiating affection. Nick knows he needs to stick with him now, just like they did when they started the band together and their dreams of conquering the world had yet to come true. This is another chance. All they have to do is take it.

They both know where their conversation downstairs will go. One word circles around their heads: _reunion_.

———

“Are we really doing this?”

“We have to, Charlie.”

“Well, not ne—”

“Do you want to save the band or not?”

“Oh no, I’m not taking part in this domestic argument.”

Nick grabs the sleeve of John’s shirt and pulls, though he wasn’t planning on actually leaving the kitchen. They stand and look at each other, knowing just who they need to call, but stalling.

“Okay, we’re doing this. Who first, Roger or Andy?” Simon asks, leaning against the countertop, staring down the telephone.

“On the count of three.” John looks between Nick and Simon. “Three, two, one.”

“ _Roger_ ,” they all say in unison. Laughter fills John’s kitchen.

“Alright, guess that settles it,” Nick chuckles. “Which one of us would he rather hear this from? I’m thinking you, Charlie.”

John nods in agreement.

Simon doesn’t hesitate to pick up the phone, dialing his number. The dial tones only add to the anticipation of this conversation, but it’s now or never.

_“Hello?”_

“Rog, hi. How’ve you been?”

_“Simon! It’s been a while, man. I’m well, yourself?”_

“Fantastic. So, I’ve got a question. You have a second?”

_“Of course. What’s up?”_

“Are you sitting down? You might want to be.”

_“I am now. What’ve you got up your sleeve this time?”_

“How would you feel about a Duran reunion? The _fab five_ back in action for the first time since 1985. Making new music, might I add.”

_“Wow. Really? You got Andy to agree to that?”_

“Well, you’re the first on our list. Nick and I are at John’s currently and we’ve been talking. So, what do you say, Rog?”

_“I’m in. I... I don’t know what else to say! I’ve missed it, you know. Playing, touring, everything.”_

“That’s great, thank you so much. We’ve missed you as well. Hey, we’ll call you back once we get Andy in on it too, alright?”

_“Good luck, I can’t wait to see you three again.”_

“Four!”

_“Four, right.”_

“Later, Roger.”

_“Bye, Simon.”_

Simon hangs up the phone, pulling Nick into a celebratory smooch. John feigns disgust, bursting into a fit of laughter. This reunion is actually _happening,_ and it’s so hard to believe it.

“That might take some getting used to, you know. Promise me I won’t walk in on anything I don’t want to see though, please.”

“We won’t shag in front of you, Johnny. Not unless you want us to.” Simon earns himself a slap on the arm for that.

John can’t help but blush and picture it; he’s always been a visual thinker. “I’m good, thank you. The couple’s banter is enough for me. Though I reckon you’ve been bickering like a married couple long before now.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You’re insane. Let’s get Andy on the phone, we’ve waited long enough.”

“He’s going to nag me to hell and back, Johnny. And I love every minute of it,” Simon says with a grin, hardly sarcastic.

“Adorable.”

Simon picks the phone back up, accepting his fate as the catalyst for this plan of theirs. John’s got Andy’s number written on a slip of paper. He dials the numbers carefully and holds the phone to his ear, hoping for the best yet preparing for the worst. It is Andy, after all.

He’s worried he’ll have to leave a message, the dial tones ring in his ear for so long. Finally, on the last ring, he hears a click.

_“‘Ello?”_

“Hey, Andy, it’s Simon.”

 _“Oh, haven’t heard from you in awhile. What’s goin’ on?_ ”

“I wanted to ask you something. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it, though.”

_“Ask away, Charlie. I’m all ears.”_

“I’ve got John and Nick here, we’re actually standing in John’s kitchen as we speak. We’ve been talking about a reunion, all five of us.”

_“Fuck, seriously?”_

“Would you be interested? Roger is already in, John too, of course. You’re the only one we still need.”

_“Well...”_

“C’mon, make my day, Andy!”

_“Alright, I’ll make your day. I’ll come back, long as Nick doesn’t nag me.”_

“He won’t, he’s got me to pester. _Ouch_ —”

_“Does he now?”_

“Long story. _Very_ long story. Thanks, Ands. We’re really glad to have you back.”

_“Can’t wait to hear it. Hey, I’ve gotta go, I’ll call you guys back in the mornin’, yeah?”_

“Sounds great, man. Hope to see you soon.”

_“You too, tell the guys I said hi.”_

“Will do.”

As soon as Simon hangs up the phone, John rounds the island. The three of them embrace and hold onto each other tight. It’s only the beginning, but it already feels like they’re on top of the world again.


	10. Chapter 10

_July 2003_

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Simon comes up behind Nick, fixing his hair in the mirror. They’ll be onstage in a few minutes.

“What does?”

“For all five of us to be back together like this, doing shows.”

Nick purses his lips, turning to his husband. “Well, I wouldn’t say _weird_. It feels right to have our Taylors back.”

Simon takes him into his arms. He melts into the embrace just as he would have a few years ago, when they were grieving the loss of John together. Nick sighs happily against him, contented with everything in his life at the moment.

He draws back for a kiss, leaning down and capturing his lips. It’s quick and chaste, putting a smile on both their faces. Still, even when Simon pulls away, his hands cup Nick’s face, eyes meeting in a tender moment.

“Aren’t you glad we stuck together through it all?” he asks, recalling those difficult years.

“We did much more than just stick together,” Nick chuckles. “But of course I am. We made that promise for a reason.”

“I’ll never forget that. _Damn_.”

“You’ll be thinking about it now during the show, you’re welcome for that.”

Simon lets go of his face. He is thinking about it, he really can’t help himself. They have moved past that day now, healed and revived themselves, but it is locked in their memory.

Nick winks and Simon’s mind goes haywire. He still has the same effect on him. “Be a good boy and maybe after the show I can help take your mind off it.”

“I love it when you tease me.”

“Good. Let’s get out there before the others have a fit.”


End file.
